CHAPTER XVIII.
MERRIWELL AND RATTLETON.
"Harry!" "Hello!" "You've got to stop smoking those confounded cigarettes." Harry Rattleton let his feet fall with a thump from the table on which they had been comfortably resting and turned about to stare at Merriwell, his roommate.

His face expressed astonishment, not unmingled with anger.
"Will you be good enough to repeat that remark ?" he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke and holding his roll daintily poised in his fingers.
"I said that you must stop smoking cigarettes." "Well, what did you mean ?" "I am in the habit of saying what I mean," was the quiet answer as Frank scanned the paper over which he had been pondering for some time.
Harry got upon his feet, shoved one hand into his trousers pocket, and stared in silence for some seconds at Merriwell.

That stare was most expressive.
"Well, may I be jotally tiggered--I mean totally jiggered!" he finally exclaimed.
"You'll be worse than that if you keep on with those things," asserted Frank.

"You'll be totally wrecked." "This is the first time you have had the crust to deliberately tell me that I must do anything," growled Harry, resentfully.

"And I feel free to say that I don't like it much.